


You're Not Him (and I don't know how to tell you)

by Indigofingers



Category: Beast (Band)
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, Flirting, Grief/Mourning, I don't know what else to tag, Male-Female Friendship, Melodrama, Romance, ex-boyfriend drama, spontaneous dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 00:11:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7485735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indigofingers/pseuds/Indigofingers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daera is no longer with her ex-boyfriend, Junhyung, due to extenuating circumstances. The odds of meeting someone in a bar with the same name are high, but it's still startling to herself that she agrees to go out with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Not Him (and I don't know how to tell you)

**Author's Note:**

> This is old. Like, almost a year old. I wanted it to go somewhere, but it didn't. So I'm posting it here as a one-shot. BUT, if you want more, hey, I guess I could come up with something. I dunno about the first person. Supposedly it's the easier to write but I don't agree.

His name was Junhyung too.

The faces were different. The voices were different. Their builds were different. Their hair was different. The way they held themselves was different. The personalities, well, I didn't know this one's personality.

Junhyung was a timid, quietly passionate, introverted sort of personality, that drew you in, if you knew what to look for. Somehow I'd known what to look for. I'd never have looked his way twice otherwise, I think. That thought saddened me. But also made me happy. I'd been the one to see the love in him. I was the one for him.

I thought I was. I loved him. And he was gone.

The eyes were different too. These eyes were a lot more sure, more confident. Junhyung's eyes had always been a little shaky. He'd never been completely sure of himself. He'd never looked at me like this one did, with an air of curiosity. He'd never asked about me. He always assumed that if I wanted to share, I would.

I'd appreciated that, I think. Hadn't I? I loved him, after all.

Junhyung wasn't the tallest. He was never very strong. He was slender, bordering on skinny, with long fingers and bony shoulders. He was decidedly a gentleman, but maybe not the definition of manly. He cared for me, not so much about me. I knew that he cared. Everything he did spoke of care, just not exactly the most loving kind. He loved me, yes, and he told me, it was just never quite the confident, reassuring declaration most girls wanted.

But I never minded. Had I? I loved, after all.

This one looked at me like he wanted to care about me. Like he already did, if in a very lazy fashion. Could you care about someone lazily? It was unsettling. I wasn't quite sure what to do with that. He didn't even know me. I'd dealt with companionable silence and quiet hand-holding and quick kisses, so light it was like a feather had touched my skin. But I had never complained. I'd liked it. It was a unique love, something special, something that was only for us.

Junhyung wasn't like anyone else. This one carried his name, but what else was the same? Why did it disturb me so? Plenty of people had the same name. Why did I expect them to be the same person? Was I expecting them to be the same person? Maybe I was hoping they weren't. Maybe that would be too hard. But I was just speculating uselessly at this point. I didn't know anything about this one. 

"What are you thinking about?"

It startled me, that question. Asking me my name was one thing. Anyone would ask my name. But strangers didn't usually ask what I was thinking about. Junhyung didn't ask things like that. He didn't ask many questions at all. He made it clear that he was there to listen, and I was free to talk. I did, a lot, honestly. And when he talked, I listened. We never needed questions because we gave each other the answers first.

But now, this one was asking me questions, and it took me a few moments to find an answer, one that didn't involve my crazy comparisons between this Junhyung and the other one, my first one, the one who was gone.

"Lots of things. Girls do that." It was a safe answer, and I was unsatisfied with it. I was used to answering the whole of unasked questions, so partly answering one said out loud was odd. I'd answered plenty of people's questions in my life, just not so many from handsome men whose mere introductions drew me in. Why did this one draw me in? I still loved Junhyung, the first one. Surely he saw the heartbreak on my face. I must've had heartbreak on my face, unless my mask of blankness had grown considerably in the past week.

But this one didn't seem to mind, simply nodding and smiling a little. His smile was quiet, like his personality seemed to be. His voice was deep, but not low, just a comfortable sort of voice, one that you could listen to easily. And it was easy to listen to him, it was just strange to answer his questions.

I was intrigued though, even if technically I was still sad about losing Junhyung, the first Junhyung, so here I was having a conversation with this one, if you could call it that. How did this one even find me? Am I destined to be with a Junhyung?

Be with…I just lost one. I didn't want to be with another, no matter what his name. I was only answering his questions. That's all. My thoughts are always escaping me.

"What brings you here? You're too pretty to be here alone."

What he flirting? If he was, he was being very lazy about it. I could tell by the casual, comfortable look on his face, like if I rejected this lazy flirting it wouldn't ruin his night at all. It was more like he was being polite, but was there even such a thing at a place like this? Even I didn't know why I'd come in here. Alcohol was never my choice in which to drown my sorrows, and I didn't even know how to do that.

Since, well, I'd never lost a lover before. Not that I ever considered Junhyung my lover, really. He was the one I loved, but it was different. We were different. Everyone thought that, not just us. But it didn't matter now, did it? I had to answer the question.

"Oh, you know. Life problems."

He nodded again, the curiosity still in his eyes, but the laziness also still very present in the set of his shoulders and the way he held his glass. I was just a distraction. Junhyung had never been just a distraction. If I had, I would never have continued. I needed to be needed, and Junhyung had needed me. This one didn't need me.

But somehow, I didn't mind.

And that was enough to make answer this one's questions. I wanted to know why I didn't mind.

"So, do those life problems include a love problem?"

Again, his tone was casual, mildly curious, but this time I didn't feel as unsettled by the question. If anything, I wanted to answer him. Maybe it was my own curiosity that was fueling this conversation. Whatever it was, I found myself swinging round a little so I could look at him better. Why not open myself to a stranger? I wouldn't have to deal with the annoying follow up the next day. I could say anything. It all my choice.

He sipped at his beer patiently. I swallowed, pressing my lips together while I thought of what exactly to say. His fingers tapped an uneven rhythm on the counter and my eyes kept returning to them. I was unable to form a coherent sentence whilst being entranced by those fingers. Without really knowing what I was doing, I think, I reached out and put my hand over his, stopping the rhythm.

Amused eyes glanced down at our hands and back up to meet mine. "If you wanted to speed this up, you could have just said so."

"No! I don't want to speed this up, whatever this is, that we are doing, right now." I fumbled with my words as I hastily withdrew my hand. "I mean, I just wanted you to stop tapping." I cringed at how unsure of myself I sounded. It just made me feel even smaller under his much surer gaze.

He smiled gently. I think it was gentle. It could have been an attempt at a smirk or something sexier, but I was too flustered to read more into it. I took a quick sip of my drink, being careful not to drink too much, though I wasn't even close to being slightly buzzed. I'd always tolerated alcohol well. Junhyung was a terrible drinker. He could barely get half a bottle of soju down before he was falling over. But I had never minded. It's not like we needed liquor to fuel our romance.

A hand covered mine, startling me out of my thoughts.

"So, I'm gonna go ahead and assume you're here because of love, or a lack of it. You don't look like you're in any state to try anything," he raised his hand to touch my cheek, I shrank back, "that's what I thought." He settled back onto his stool with that same gentle but smirking smile, both hands safely away from my person.

"How about instead of lackluster flirting, we try and be a little deeper? You tell me something, I'll tell you something, we'll have forgotten each other by the morning," he cocked his head to the side in a questioning manner.

There wasn't anything to lose by accepting his proposition. I nodded, folding my hands in my lap demurely, waiting for him to start.

"I'll ask first? Okay. This one is easy. Please confirm my earlier assumption that you're here because you just broke up."

It was sort of true. I mean, there was no possible way to be with Junhyung now, not when he didn't even remember who I was. We were broken up. I nodded.

"This works better if you say your answers out loud. Otherwise it feels like a one-sided conversation."

"Yes."

He chuckled softly. "Okay, it's a start. So now, you ask me something."

I took the easy way out. "Why are you here?"

He made a face, the expression saying he knew exactly what I was doing, that he knew my heart wasn't in this, but he didn't complain, just sipped at his beer and answered the question.

"I have nothing better to do."

This time I made a face. "That's a very ambiguous answer."

"My turn. Did he dump you, or you dump him?"

"Wouldn't it be weird if I dumped him but now I'm drinking away my sorrows because of a choice I made?"

"It wouldn't be the first time I've seen it. Those girls are the ones who do end up getting dumped in the end. No one likes inconsistency."

True. Junhyung had been very consistent, though not the kind that most people would have liked. But I wasn't most people. "It was a mutual breakup."

His expression didn't waver, still mildly curious but mostly amused. "What was the problem?"

"My turn. Did your girlfriend dump you?"

His expression wavered. "No."

I smiled for the first time that night, just a tiny smile, and it only lasted a moment. "She did. But she wasn't really your girlfriend in the first place. You just liked being seen together."

He put his beer back down on the counter and stared at me. I didn't move, just let him try and break me with his eyes. It wasn't intimidating. It would have been if I was wrong. But I wasn't wrong.

"Why would you assume that?"

"It was just a guess. You don't seem the type to get too interested."

"Type-casting, are we? For my turn, I'll say that you're the type of girl who easily gets her heart broken."

I looked down for second, giving him the chance to feel smug, then returned his gaze with another slight smile. "Don't throw around assumptions you don't really believe. It makes you dislikeable."

Again, the barely concealed surprise. He dropped his gaze. "Are you a shrink?"

I laughed at that, actually laughed, for the first time in…a long time. "No. I'm just not your average girl-drinking-to-get-over-a-break-up."

He-- I realized I still refused to give him his name, feeling like it didn't belong to him. He-- this Junhyung stared at me for a few seconds before breaking into an easy smile, one that I returned, before turning to finish his beer.

This Junhyung stood up. "I'm not going to write my number on a napkin. I'm not going to ask for yours. But I would like to talk to you again. Do you want to go out for coffee tomorrow?"

I don't know if it was his eyes, or his rhythmic fingers, or his interesting methods of flirtation, or the fact that he'd actually made me smile, but I heard myself say the name of my favorite café and a time of day.

Not-my-Junhyung smiled at me, the first smile all night that I felt was truly genuine, with nothing else attached, and tipped a "I'll see you tomorrow then," my way. And he left.

I didn't regret any of it.

\--

It was very odd to be sitting in a café expecting someone to show up. Actually, I didn't really expect him to show up. I sort of assumed that he'd either forget or be really late. I'd never met a stranger at a bar and arranged a date afterward. I'd never met a stranger at a bar before, let alone the spontaneous date part. I really didn't know what was going to come out of this. Was this what was called 'hitting it off'?

It had seemed more like he had nothing better to do and he was mildly interested, so why not make a date? Was this a date? I really didn't want it to be. We were just too friends getting coffee. Except that we weren't even friends yet. We were barely acquaintances. Oh, this was too confusing.

With the last Junhyung, we'd met through mutual friends. We met up with those mutual friends and then slowly, with just each other, and it had really been our friends who had informed us that we were dating. We really were clueless back then. Neither of us had been in a relationship before. It was like we were tiptoeing around for a while. In a lot of ways, we were more like really good friends than boyfriend and girlfriend.

When I arrived at the café, I'd been careful to sit on the opposite side from where I usually sat. It was too close to memories, things I didn't want to think about and feelings I didn't want to resurface. This was called moving on, right?

Right.

A moving body entered my field of vision and in another second, it had taken up residence in the chair across from me.

He was actually here.

I felt…happy? Relieved? It was some sort of positive emotion and I was satisfied with that. Even if I didn't know, it was better than being empty, not feeling at all. Like how I'd been for the past few weeks.

I stirred myself from out of my thoughts and smiled at him.

I smiled, again. This was so weird. Even just seeing him made me smile. I was happy and distinctly uncomfortable at the same time.

"Hello again."

It was a simple greeting, one that I could return easily. "Hello. You came." I frowned inwardly at the surprise in my voice.

He laughed shortly, that husky chuckle that I'd already come to appreciate. "I'm not going to pass up on a date with a pretty girl."

The inside frowning must have become outside frowning because he reflected it on his face. "What's wrong?"

I would've done that nervous laughing thing, but I don't laugh when I'm nervous. I just stare blankly whilst I gather my thoughts. I tried to gather them quickly so I wasn't staring for too long. "Nothing, just. I guess, I don't know what we're doing here."

Somehow that just seemed to make him relax. "We're getting coffee. I'll buy. What do you want?"

"A cappuccino." It slipped out easily, and he gave me a another lazy smile before getting up to go order. I wasn't sure why I was craving the espresso today. It's not like it did anything. Didn't calm, didn't energize. I just liked the taste.

Whatever. Once again, I was over thinking things. Junhyung used to say it was my favorite hobby. I always got him back by teasing his tendency to under think things. It was just one more reason we went together so well. Between the two of us we could find some semblance of normality.

I really needed to not think about Junhyung. But I was with Junhyung! I pressed my fingers to my temples as if that would suppress my wandering thoughts. New-Junhyung came back bearing hot beverages of strength. Coffee. Aish. I reached for mine and inhaled deeply. This whole place smelled of coffee, but still, having it close to you is different.

"You don't take sugar, right?"

I smiled slightly. "Correct. Good guess."

He echoed the smile. It was like a game. If he smiled, I smiled. If I smiled, he smiled. I suppose it was normally like that. But it still felt like a game. This whole thing was like a game. If I said some more curious things he'd continue to be intrigued and maybe ask for another date…thing. A date. A date. A game. A game.

"So are you going to tell me what's really wrong?"

I looked at, really looked at him. All traces of laziness are gone. His eyes are earnest, like he really wants to know what's wrong and he's prepared to deal with whatever I say. I didn't expect that. I really didn't expect that. I don't know what I'm doing. So I just opened my mouth and let words fall out.

"I just broke up."

"I wasn't expecting anything."

"Weren't you?"

He leans forward, holding his coffee between his hands. "I met a pretty girl at a bar who wasn't like anyone I'd ever met at a bar. I was interested. I am interested. We're having coffee together. Next come small talk followed by silence and finally giving in to candid conversation. That's all."

I leaned forward too. "What happens after?"

Another gentle smile. "I don't know. We haven't even made small talk yet."

"You're the one who plunged into the deep end with 'tell me what's wrong,'" I pointed out.

"True. Do you want to do small talk, then?"

I made a face. "I think I'd rather just answer the question."

"Okay." He leaned back, sipped at his coffee and watched me expectantly.

I sighed. "I over think things."

"I noticed."

"Shush, I'm trying to be candid."

"Sorry."

"I over think things, and it's always made this sort of thing impossible. I just end up running millions of thoughts through my head and never say anything and eventually the other person leaves."

"They were rotten friends."

"They weren't friends, they were people my friends set me up with."

"But one of them must have gone somewhere."

I spared him a cracked, half-smile. "No, we met through late night snack-and-talk sessions our senior year of college. It just sort of went on from there."

"But then you went on dates with him."

"We didn't really go on dates, we just…dated."

His brows spoke the question.

"We were different." I shrugged, not really wanting to talk about this any further.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm getting that. I don't usually talk about exes on dates, either."

"This is a date, then?"

"What did you think it was?"

"I don't know. I think I just didn't want it to be a date. It's…too soon or something." I dropped my gaze.

Fingers tapped out an uneven rhythm on the tabletop, bringing my eyes back up.

"Are you so fascinated by my fingers?"

"Yes."

I really hadn't meant to say that out loud. But he laughed, gentle and deep, and I liked it; it made me feel warm inside. A smile crept over my face again without my permission.

"You're even prettier when you smile."

"Please don't flirt with me."

"I'm not. I'm just stating a fact."

I rolled my eyes at that. "Okay." I gulped down some of my neglected cappuccino. "Can you talk now?"

He sighed dramatically. "My life is boring. Besides, can't you read my mind?"

"No."

"I've gone out with a lot of girls," he started, pausing as he worked out the rest of that sentence in his head. I let him, continuing to drink. "I don't want to talk about that. In fact, I think neither of us should talk about past relationships. Let's talk about normal things."

"Normal things. I can do normal. What's your favorite color?"

"Really?"

I just smiled. His favorite color, it turns out, was red.

It's not like I expected it to be grey. Junhyung's favorite color was grey.

"Why?"

"Because there's different kinds. Brown-grey, green-grey, blue-grey and so on. It's an ambiguous color, never quite making up its mind what other color it's going to imitate, unless it's just imitating black, but that's boring. That's not his favorite color. And look, we just broke our rule."

"Oops. But you broke it first."

"I didn't mean to say it out loud."

"But you were going to think it. For everything I say, do you think of what he would say?"

If I was the blushing sort, I would've blushed then, because he guessed it exactly. Again, I really didn't mean to. This thinking thing just came naturally. I didn't mean to say "his favorite color was grey," out loud either. My mind was just used to doing that. I'd been comparing Junhyung to the rest of the world since we met. The rest of the world was interesting, but he'd been exceptionally intriguing. Apparently, we'd found each other intriguing. I'd always found him intriguing.

"You're doing it again. I'm right here, you know."

"I'm sorry."

He drummed his fingers on the table. "Am I such poor company? I know I'm not terribly interesting."

Just like the night before, I found myself reaching out to stop his fingers, but instead, his caught mine and held onto them. I watched as he examined my hand, like it was my fingers that were fascinating.

"Your hand is soft."

I just nodded.

"What do you do for a living?"

"I write."

He looked back up at me, but didn't let go of my hand. I'm really not sure why I didn't pull away. I think he was surprised that I didn't, because he was holding my hand so carefully, like he was anticipating losing it at any second. I liked that.

"What do you write?" He started drawing tentative circles on the back of my hand with his thumb.

"Short stories, mostly. A lot of poetry."

"And that pays the bills?"

I forced a laugh. "No."

Understanding dawned in his eyes as mine skirted around, avoiding his gaze. "Parents?"

"Overprotective, but loving. They encouraged my artistic talents and support me." The financially part was only implied, but he didn't ask for clarification. "What about you?"

"Music production."

"Parents?"

"Under protective. Separated."

We were so different. Junhyung and I had been so similar. Maybe it was the difference between us that kept me engaged. Maybe I was just lonely. No. I didn't believe in using people for comfort. So what was it about this one?

"You didn't tell me your favorite color."

I smiled. "Deep violet, like the color of a mystery."

He was still holding my hand. It felt so normal. Why did that feel so normal? I was so confused.

"Mysteries have colors?"

"Sure. But the best mysteries are deep violet."

"Why is that?"

"Because deep violet isn't found naturally in too many places. It's something you have to look for, and when you find it, it's like solving a mystery. You found what most others would pass by or give up on finding."

"What other colors can mysteries be?"

"Whatever you like. Whatever you're searching for. Whatever is eluding you."

He tightened his grip on my hand a little. "You're a mystery to me."

I smiled at that. "Am I? What color?"

"I don't know yet. I'm not sure what I'm searching for."

I squeezed back, surprising him. "You'll know it when you see it."

He ended up walking me home after that. My apartment was only a few blocks from the café. I didn't let him come inside, but he didn't seem disappointed. This time he asked for my number, and I gave it. Before he left, he reached for my hand again. For whatever that reason was, a mystery whose color I didn't know, I let him.

"Can we be friends?"

The earnestness of his voice made me laugh, which made him smile, and I couldn't help smiling back at him. Already his smile was so familiar to me, a mixture of smugness and softness that shouldn't exist but did. It was a mystery.

"I'd like that."

He still didn't know he had the same name.


End file.
